


Lessons

by Septembers_coda



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dreams, Erotica, First Kiss, First Time, Kissing Lessons, M/M, Male Slash, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rating: NC17, Teaching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 19:24:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/752135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Septembers_coda/pseuds/Septembers_coda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is on his own, lonely and guilt-ridden, but determined not to return to Dean and hunting, and he’ll never be Lucifer’s vessel. But what torments him most is the sudden, extremely unexpected onslaught of erotic dreams about a certain trenchcoat-sporting angel of his acquaintance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> I really just wanted to write some more hot Sassy action. This is less graphic than most porn without plot (though more graphic than anything I’ve written before), but… not much really happens, so I guess the tag still applies. :-)

Sam tossed in his inadequate double bed, feet hanging off the end, covers twisting restrictively. He cursed as he elbowed the wall. He’d tried putting the bed in the middle of the room, but then he fell out of it more often. When the dreams came.

At first, there were the nightmares—about Dean, about unleashing the apocalypse, about the demon blood and his need for it. But since he took the job at the bar and no one had come looking for him yet, the dreams had gradually changed.

They were a lot more pleasant—but no less disturbing. Perhaps more so. He could ignore them if he believed they were sent to him by Lucifer, to somehow encourage him to be his vessel. But he knew they were not. He recognized the workings of his own mind, even if he didn’t understand _why_ it was working this way.

He dreamed of Castiel.

He flushed, thinking back over the last one. He felt himself stiffen instantly, and tried to turn his thoughts elsewhere, but they would not be deterred. He felt paralyzed anew, just as he had in the dream. Cas had come to him, rendered him unable to move, and erotically ravaged him. Repeatedly.

What disturbed him was how much he had liked it. Considering it was (theoretically) a nightmare, Cas had been surprisingly gentle. Loving, even. He had caressed Sam from head to toe, infuriatingly slowly, then started in on him with his mouth, consuming, tasting. Every nerve ending in Sam’s body was on fire, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t beg for release, could not even cry out. It was an exquisite, unbearable torture, and it went on and on, through all the hours of Sam’s sleep, nearly every night now.

The last dream had been different in that it had a definitive conclusion. Unlike in the others, this time, Cas had taken his own pleasure, after bringing Sam to climax not once, but many times. These dream-orgasms did not result in real satisfaction for Sam’s body; he always woke imbued with horribly intense sexual frustration. But this time, after taking Sam in his mouth with endlessly exquisite skill, Cas had turned Sam over, mounted him and penetrated him deeply, pumping slowly and intensely, filling Sam’s ears with his slowly building, panting cries.

Sam had expected pain, but there had been none. Instead, there was intense pleasure of a kind he had never experienced before, building and building until he came with blazing intensity—and he had woken up to his own cries, this time sticky from his release and bathed in the aftermath of pleasure, his frustration eased. A new kind of frustration crept up on him this time, though. He wanted Cas there with him. He wanted to curl around him, kiss him and hold him close, fall asleep in his arms.

This disturbed him rather more than the sexual dreams had, not least because he was having them while he was awake. The erotic dreams he could dismiss as a weird effect of being Lucifer’s preferred vessel, or as pure horniness, or some combination of both. Having… _romantic_ feelings about Cas while he was awake was less easy to explain.

Sam knew he was lonely. He could have had the company of Lindsey, a nice, attractive girl who worked at the bar with him, who liked him (or rather, liked “Keith”) and would probably make no demands of him. But it was dangerous to form any attachments, and Sam would like to protect her from harm if he could. Besides, his heart was not in it. It was becoming increasingly clear what his heart _was_ interested in.

He wasn’t too disturbed by the gay aspect of it—it was new, but what difference did it make? People were people. Except… was an angel really a person? He laughed at the irony of it—leave it to him, he thought; when he finally fell for someone, it was absolutely the most unattainable figure possible. Cas was an angel, who didn’t have a sexuality as far as Sam knew, he was the wrong gender, (or at least his vessel was) he had always liked Dean better, and he viewed Sam as an abomination. Sam _was_ an abomination. In love—was it love?—with an angel of the lord. Whose brother wanted to use him to unleash Armageddon on the world.

It was just so…. quintessentially _Winchester._

***

He went to work as usual, and tried to put Cas out of his mind. He told himself these odd feelings would pass. He tried being a bit more open to Lindsey’s flirting, just to test his heterosexuality, which seemed more or less intact. The idea of sleeping with her was as attractive as ever—which, considering his general lack of interest in casual sex, wasn’t saying much. Would he mind a casual encounter if it were with Cas? He didn’t allow his thoughts to go there.

He was unaccountably tired when he got home from work. Strange how a regular day’s work, washing glasses and wiping up beer spills, could leave him more tired than fighting demons had, most days. Possibly it was the constant lying that exhausted him—not to others, which he was used to, but to himself. Telling himself he would never go back to hunting, that he did not miss Dean terribly, that he was sure he was doing the right thing. That he was strong enough to refuse Lucifer. Not least, telling himself that he _wasn’t_ in love with Cas—it wasn’t real, he would stop feeling it, it was just a weird phase of some kind that he’d laugh about later… All these exhausting lies seemed to weigh on him at once tonight, which is perhaps why he didn’t immediately realize that he was not alone in his tiny, crappy studio apartment.

He jumped backwards and groped for a weapon before he recognized Cas, standing in his little galley kitchen, gazing at Sam solemnly.

“Cas! What…”

Sam took a shaky breath. Oh, God. He’d thought the feelings from his dreams would dissipate if he ever saw Cas face-to-face again—that the masculinity of his appearance would put him off. The opposite was true. He was immediately assaulted by the most intense feeling of attraction he had ever felt. Everything about Cas was beautiful to him, down to the rumpled trenchcoat. He had thought he would not want to kiss a man, that the burn of Cas’s stubble would be a turn-off. Now he longed to feel it, and was so desperately glad to see the angel that it was all he could do not to seize him in his arms and kiss him breathless.

He fought the urge with all his strength and struggled to be indifferent and unyielding. “I thought you couldn’t find me, with all the angel-proofing I did,” he said coolly. “What are you doing here?”

“I could not have found you, had you not called out to me so loudly and so often in your dreams,” Cas said flatly.

No. Oh God, no, no, no. Sam’s mind refused to accept it. He froze solid where he stood, trying to swallow the giddy terror and humiliation, desperately searching for a cover, a wall he could throw up. “Dreams? What are you talking about, Cas?” he managed at last.

“I am speaking of the erotic dreams you have about me for hours each night, Sam.” The angel was gazing at him unwaveringly, eyes unbearably blue and piercing. “I receive them like prayers. They grow too desperate for me to ignore.”

Sam forced a laugh. His panic was so overwhelming he had to fight the urge to reach for a weapon, as there was nothing here to fight. “Ha… ha ha, funny, well… you know, I’m straight, so I…”

“I could do those things to you. If you truly wish for it.” Sam froze again, and after a moment, Cas continued. “I think… I would like it. Very much.”

Fraught silence. Sam’s breath was loud in his ears. It was like his dream: he couldn’t move or speak.

“However…” Cas continued, “to be successful at it, I would need some instruction.” He took the two steps required to cross the small room and stand face to face with Sam. “In your dreams, I appeared to have some skill in this area, but in fact I am inexperienced.”

He looked into Sam’s eyes for a moment, assessing. Sam was utterly still. Cas’s closeness made his heart, already racing, beat even faster, and movement was even more impossible. His breath caught as Cas carefully put his arms around him, hands moving hesitantly up his back. “I would not wish to disappoint you,” he said in a low voice. He reached up to push Sam’s hair back and cupped his cheek. “Sam,” he said, nearly whispering now. “Teach me how to kiss you.”

Sam’s eyes locked helplessly on Cas’s lips. “I… um, Cas…” He broke away abruptly. Another half second, he knew, and he would have been kissing him. Once he started, he might not stop. “Look,” he said, crossing the room and putting a safe distance between them, “are you sure that’s a good idea? I mean… I thought you… you know, I thought we were on opposite sides, sort of. You’re here to support Dean… Heaven’s chosen guy or whatever, and I’m supposed to be Lucifer’s vessel.” He looked down, unable to meet Cas’s unblinking blue gaze as shame burned him. He stared at the floor as Cas stepped closer again. “You’re an angel, and I’m… I’m tainted, in every way, it seems. I’m cursed, and you—”

He broke off with a gasp as Cas touched him, taking his face in his hands, lifting his chin so he had to look into his eyes. “Sam,” he said, voice heavy with compassion and… something more. “Just kiss me.”

And Sam thought, really, what did he have to lose? What harm could he do that he had not already done? And if Cas was interested…

“OK,” Sam said in a small voice. Cas looked at him expectantly. “Um… let’s sit down.”

There was nowhere to sit but the bed. He had that, a ratty barstool from his workplace he had claimed (and inexpertly repaired) when it got broken, and a broken-spined easy chair the landlord had said he could take from the building’s basement laundry room. So unless Cas wanted to sit on his lap… Sam gulped at the rush of heat that came over him at the thought. He walked to the bed and sat awkwardly on the very edge of it. Cas sat down next to him.

“Show me what you like, Sam.”

Sam hitched one leg hallway onto the bed, awkwardly, shifting to face Cas. God, he was so beautiful. Devastating. Sam’s heart sped up at his closeness. He put an arm around him, and the combination of awkwardness and desire was nearly unbearable, like being a teenager again. But Sam forged ahead.

“It’s not really about… technique,” he said, stroking Cas’s cheek with his right hand, left arm still around him. Oh. The roughness of stubble, just as he’d imagined. He leaned close. “Just… do what you feel.”

He kissed him, slowly, lips together, moving softly against Cas’s, which were rough with chapped skin. They parted slightly and he tasted Cas’s breath. Cas enclosed Sam’s bottom lip between his lips, shyly.

“Good,” Sam whispered against Cas’s mouth. “You’re a natural.” His breath came faster as he opened his own mouth and leaned into Cas, bringing his head closer with his hand in the angel’s hair. Cas, encouraged, moved his mouth eagerly against Sam’s. Sam tried to move slowly, but his heart was pounding, and in moments he was kissing Cas deeply, caressing his lower lip with his tongue, finally thrusting into his mouth and enticing Cas’s tongue to touch his own, willing but inexpert.

“Open your mouth a little more,” Sam breathed. “Just a little… mmm, good…” He drew Cas down on his side on the bed and kissed him harder. He was rewarded by an almost startled-sounding groan from Cas.

“It feels… very good,” Cas said.

“Good… that’s how it should feel,” Sam murmured, threading Cas’s arm out of the sleeve of his trenchcoat. Cas helped him get his other arm out and wriggled to get the coat out from under him; Sam gasped as the movement pressed Cas against him intimately. He shoved the trenchcoat out of the way, pressed Cas back into his pillow and kissed him hard. Cas gave another startled moan and clutched at Sam.

“Yes,” Sam gasped. “You can… you can touch me, too, while I kiss you. Touch me however you want,” he said, eagerly loosening Cas’s tie and collar and untucking his shirt, then bending to kiss his neck.

Cas ran his hands over him shyly; Sam shuddered as he felt gentle, inquisitive hands explore the shape of his shoulder blades and the muscles of his back through his T-shirt. He used his role as instructor to force himself to move slowly, though Cas seemed to be doing just fine. He now opened his mouth eagerly when Sam kissed him, tasting experimentally. He stroked Cas’s hair as Cas began to kiss his neck, imitating Sam’s earlier caresses. “Think you got the hang of it now?” he asked, sliding his hands under Cas’s shirt to caress his back and sides.

Cas gasped at Sam’s touch on his bare skin, and Sam groaned, arching up against him. Cas clutched him desperately.

“Perhaps… a bit more practice,” he panted, pushing Sam’s T-shirt up to mirror his caresses.

Sam chuckled, lifting Cas’s head to his. “OK,” he said. He kissed Cas thoroughly, pausing now and then to encourage him to be the aggressor, teasing him into long, heady kisses that made Sam’s head spin. Gradually they rolled over so Cas was mostly on top, and Sam laughed joyfully, chuckles dissolving into groans, as Cas finally seized his face in his hands impatiently and kissed him hard, forcing his mouth to admit his tongue. Sam surrendered, head tilted back, mouth open to Cas’s onslaught.

Sam worked hard to control his intense arousal. There was some small part of his mind, buzzing in the distance, that still found the situation strange… namely, how _not_ strange it was. The hard strength of Cas’s body, the solid feel of him, so different from a woman, felt blissfully _right_ in Sam’s arms. The roughness of his stubble burned Sam’s lips, and he liked it. He loved the feel of his flat, hard chest pressed to his, and then… the last frontier, as it were, the strangeness he’d most feared, felt like a lightning strike of erotic need and pleasure: when Cas rubbed against him and he felt the hard bulge in his pants pressed to his hip.

“Sam,” Cas said, into a pause between kisses. He sounded unhappy suddenly. “I… I have to go.”

“What? _Now?”_ Sam was flooded with disappointment.

“I have… an appointment.” He said it reluctantly, and Sam was instantly suspicious.

“With who?”

“With Dean, Sam.” He touched Sam’s face, perhaps anticipating the flood of pain Sam would experience at the mention of his brother. “He has agreed to help me find—”

“Don’t. Don’t tell me,” Sam interrupted, standing up. “Look, Cas. Whatever happens… with us, I am never going back. You understand? And I don’t want to know what Dean is doing, or anything about the apocalypse, or… or anything. I’m done. With all of it.”

Cas was gazing at him compassionately. He looked extremely rumpled, lips swollen from kissing, and Sam thought it was unbearably sexy. He looked away, both from Cas’s allure, and from the unwanted pity.

“I don’t think it will work out that way, Sam. You cannot simply—”

“Don’t, Cas. Please.”

Cas stood up, and put on his trenchcoat. There was an awkward silence. “I would like to return… tomorrow. When you are done with work. I did not know it would be so late that you would return. It… became morning more quickly than I realized…”

“Yeah, I work until after the bar closes, cleaning up. I usually get home around four.” Sam stepped close to Cas. “You’d better let me fix you up,” he said softly, touching Cas’s face. “If Dean sees you looking like this, he’ll know something is up.” He smoothed Cas’s hair, ostensibly fixing it, but really just using the excuse to touch him. He fixed his collar, straightened and re-knotted his tie, taking as much time as he could. Cas simply gazed at him, inches away, apparently not the least bit fooled. But he allowed it, and Sam was grateful.

“So I’ll see you… tomorrow morning? I’ll try to get back as early as I can,” Sam said.

“Yes. I will see you then.” Cas smiled. “For… another lesson, perhaps.”

***

Sam was terribly restless after Cas left. He would normally be asleep by this time, drifting off to the noise of morning traffic, though he never slept well these days. He knew that he would dream of Cas as soon as he closed his eyes. He cringed at the thought of Cas—never sleeping himself, of course—being privy to every erotic adventure Sam’s mind could invent.

Hoping that this would not also happen while he was awake, he got himself off twice before he even thought about trying to go to sleep, hoping that he could then turn his thoughts elsewhere and stave off the dreams. But his arousal at any thought of Cas—a random memory of him moaning against his lips, touching his face, or just smiling at Sam from across the room—did not diminish. And he couldn’t turn the thoughts away. He was bewildered. He couldn’t recall ever being this horny, even as a teenager.

He took a cold shower before bed, too, but it didn’t help. When he finally gave in to exhaustion and went to sleep, the dreams tormented him as much as ever. He woke up with a raging hard-on and only managed to get rid of it by focusing hard on things he preferred not to think about these days: his guilt in breaking the seal of Lilith, how he had failed Dean, what his father would think of him if he were still alive.

He got dressed with this on his mind, but before time to leave for work, he remembered that there was something he would need, if Cas returned and things went as he hoped that night. So he stopped by a convenience store, purchased a tube of lubricant, and stowed it in his bedside table before heading out again to work.

After he arrived at the bar and began his mindless tasks, Cas crept back into his thoughts like an invisible hand caressing him. It was insane. He began to genuinely worry, feeling that his desire, his response to Cas was in no way normal. After getting a funny (and somewhat hopeful) look from Lindsey, he grabbed an apron from behind the bar to conceal his perpetually recurring hard-on.

When he remembered that Cas had said he’d probably be there before Sam got home, he could barely force himself to finish his shift. He rushed out the last-call customers unapologetically and raced through closing, finally giving in and asking Lindsay if she minded finishing up, just this once.

As he raced home, desire mingled with a rising anger. What if this was all a scheme of Cas’s, to advance some kind of angelic agenda? He had never shown any romantic interest in Sam before; in fact, he had made it clear he thought Sam was tainted by the demon blood he’d been given as an infant, and since he’d found out about Ruby and the blood drinking, things seemed even worse. Not that Sam could blame him… so what was this change of heart?

He fumbled the door open hastily when he reached his apartment, unsure whether he ought to hope that Cas was waiting, but unable not to.

He was, and when Sam saw him, he wasted no time. He seized Cas’s lapels, not sure if he was going to kiss him or threaten him, or both. He dragged him close and bent his head so they were eye to eye. Cas flinched back slightly, looking alarmed, but he did not try to escape.

“Cas,” Sam growled, fighting his own breath. “Did you…. did you _do_ this to me?”

Cas looked too surprised to answer. His eyes were wide, his breath quickened, and his lips parted as he tried to find words, and this was too much for Sam to bear. He kissed Cas wildly, angrily, within an inch of his life. He poured all his desperate passion into the kiss, crushing Cas against him, and it wasn’t enough, not even close. Somehow Cas was against the wall and Sam was blindly tearing at his clothes.

“What did you _do_ to me, Cas?” he groaned, catching Cas’s lip between his teeth. Cas gave a helpless mewl of protest as his eyes squeezed shut, gasping into Sam’s mouth. “Was it a spell? Angelic powers?” He ripped at the only button he had not torn off already and tore Cas’s shirt open, pressing his mouth to Cas’s collarbone like a hot brand, running his hands frenziedly over his chest. “It’s not… I’ve never… God, I _want_ you, Cas, I’ve never wanted anyone like this, never anything like this… _need!”_ He tried to rip open Cas’s pants then, succeeding about halfway before Cas grabbed his wrist. Sam broke his grip and seized Cas’s hand, dragging it up to his face, turning his head into the forced touch.

Cas seemed to recover then, and instead of fighting Sam, he seized his hair and pulled his head down to his. He kissed Sam like he was his first gulp of air after nearly drowning, arching against him. Then to Sam’s surprise, he shoved free of the wall where Sam had him pinned, turned them, and shoved _Sam_ against the wall with surprising strength, pressing his body close to trap him. He kissed him again, as aggressively as Sam had just kissed him, and said, “Perhaps it is _you_ who did something to _me,_ Sam. That’s what I have wondered. You never felt a desire like this? I have lived millennia, observed millions of humans in many thousands of vessels, and I have never felt desire _at all_ before.” He shoved Sam’s T-shirt over his head, sliding his hands over his sides. “Until you sent me those _dreams,_ th _ose prayers_ for things I had never imagined you would want, and I could not _escape_ them…” His gaze was caught by the flesh he’d revealed; he stared at Sam with a heat that Sam swore he could _feel_ on his skin where Cas’s eyes travelled, and he writhed helplessly.

“I have a mind that perceives this entire plane, and others, all in one moment in time. I can see the stars, time itself, all of history, some of the future… and all I can think about is _this_ flesh—” He paused, rubbing his hands hard over Sam’s sides, kneading the muscle there. “—this one human body and the ridiculous, tainted, foolish… _beautiful_ human inside it!” He shoved Sam against the wall with a thrust of his hips, embraced him hard, kissing him and thrusting against him as though trying push past the barrier of flesh and fuse them together, come inside the flesh he coveted.

“Maybe…” Sam gasped against Cas’s mouth, “maybe someone… did something to both of us… oh, God, Cas, I don’t care, I just have to have you… if you want my soul, you can have it! Just give me tonight!”

“I don’t want your soul, Sam,” Cas growled, reaching between them to grope Sam through his jeans, his hand hot and demanding. Sam cried out and pressed himself into the touch. “Just your body.” He pinned Sam to the wall with a fierce, biting kiss while he struggled to unbutton Sam’s jeans.

Sam had been struggling, not against Cas but with him, returning his kisses desperately, and now, he used all his strength to break free, dragging Cas with him, shoving him down on the bed. Cas was wriggling out of his pants as he pushed him down, and Sam shucked his own off and threw himself over Cas, naked flesh coming together at last. They wrestled, sliding skin together, frantic cries escaping them both, kissing, biting, rolling over each other. Sam pinned Cas to the mattress at last and straddled him, rubbing himself against him, humping all over his torso. Cas writhed beneath him, and Sam gave a deep groan of satisfaction as his motion rubbed Cas’s erection against his belly, leaving a wet trail there.

Sam’s passion was like white-hot fire licking his skin, hotter every moment, exploding out of him. He rubbed himself between Cas’s thighs, shoving his erection hard against Cas’s balls, which made Cas groan hysterically and strain against his hold. Sam realized he had pinned Cas’s wrists. He did not release them, but gazed at Cas’s face while he rubbed their dicks together hard, pressing the head of his to the soft skin of Cas’s balls, then rubbing the shafts together, feeling the wetness of his own intense arousal mix with Cas’s. He stared at Cas’s devastating face, head thrown back, eyes squeezing tightly shut as Sam stimulated him, then opening in surprise, their blazing blue stabbing at Sam’s heart, whenever Sam made him feel even more. Sam couldn’t tear his gaze away from this beauty that burned him down to his soul.

In the back of his mind, there was one tiny worry: he did not want to hurt Cas when he took him. Frantically, he groped in the bedside table for the tube of lube. He managed to get it out before Cas seized him by the hair and pulled him back down, thrusting his tongue into Sam’s mouth as if it were the key to all existence.

Sam shoved himself into the kiss, clutching Cas possessively, and said, “I’m… I’m… gonna fuck you now, Cas,” and sat back, taking hold of Cas’s shoulders to turn him over.

“Not if I fuck you first,” Cas answered, bucking against Sam, fighting him.

They wrestled again, tugging hair, kissing and biting the flesh that was presented to each other in their writhing movements, tongues tangling together whenever their mouths met. Sam surrendered at last, allowing Cas to come out on top, groaning in pleasure as Cas groped hard and possessively between his legs. But Cas paused, released his grip on Sam, and slid up his body to kiss him with surprising tenderness. The sweetness burned Sam like brand; he gave a soft cry and held Cas’s face in his hands, kissing him back lovingly.

Cas reached for the tube of lube and handed it to Sam. “It… might be better if you showed me how,” he said vulnerably. He gazed into Sam’s eyes for a moment, touching his cheek, then he slid off of him to lie submissively on his belly.

Sam was moved to intense tenderness, despite the pounding demand of his body for release. He kissed Cas’s face all over from this side as he moved him into position, brushing kisses onto the back of his neck as he tugged his hips up and pushed his knees apart, settling Cas between them. “I’ll show you,” Sam whispered, as he opened the lube. “I’ll take care of you. I’d never hurt you.”

“I know,” Cas groaned. He moved himself willingly with Sam’s positioning, lifting his hips. “I know, just… just do it, Sam, I need it…”

Sam probed Cas gently with his fingers, generously piled with lube. Cas cried out when Sam’s fingers came inside him, and Sam’s control almost snapped then. But he wanted this to last. He moved his fingers in and out slowly, massaging, spreading the lube. He kissed Cas’s back, shoulders, and the back of his neck, bent over him as he thrust with his fingers. Cas’s desperate whimpers inflamed him painfully, but he continued to move slowly, rubbing Cas’s belly and chest with his free hand.

He knelt behind Cas and spread his thighs a little wider. He continued the penetration, easing a third finger in and probing deeper. With his other hand, he squeezed out more lube and rubbed it on himself.

Cas’s panting moans became more intense as Sam penetrated him thoroughly. He shoved himself back against Sam’s hand. “Please, Sam!” he cried frantically.

Sam removed his hand and moved against Cas, positioning himself. “I’m going to go slow,” he said shakily. “Tell me if it hurts.”

He pushed himself in carefully, a fraction of an inch at a time, but Cas cried out impatiently and thrust back against him, forcing him deep. Sam gave a strangled cry and gripped Cas’s hips, stilling them. He was blind with lust, aching to fuck Cas hard, but he forced his own hips still as well and said, “Easy, Cas… oh God… wait…”

“No! Sam! Please!”

Sam moaned and thrust then, still trying to be gentle, but he gave in when Cas thrust back against him hard, urging him into a faster rhythm. He pushed in and out, harder and faster, as Cas’s cries of pleasure burned into him; he heard himself crying out frantically, too, and put everything he had into holding back so this could last. He fucked Cas hard, thrusting him down into the bed, riding him, giving himself over completely to the rhythm. He entered a place where it felt like this could last forever, his flesh slapping against Cas’s, thrusting inside him, burning with intense pleasure that was almost, but not quite, orgasm. He knew from the rising, frantic pitch of his cries that Cas was close, so he reached around gripped the base of his shaft firmly, holding it back for Cas, keeping them both in this place of near-perfect pleasure. Sam thrust and thrust and thrust for what felt like hours, sure that he would never stop.

Cas was sobbing with ecstasy now, crumpled beneath Sam, receiving each thrust with a rising wail, and finally Sam could make out words in his cries—his own name, and “love” and “please.” Sam released his restraining grip and slid up his shaft caressingly, taking Cas tenderly in his hand and as he cried out hoarsely, feeling himself climbing, dizzying. He squeezed Cas’s wet hardness, rubbing the head with his thumb, and Cas came at last, nearly screaming with ecstasy and bucking beneath him, fountaining over Sam’s hand. Sam was undone, and his own climax blinded him; his vision bursting with red light as he spilled into Cas, still thrusting, until he came to a shuddering stop and collapsed onto Cas’s back, shaking all over helplessly.

Cas turned over and curled against him. Sam held him close in trembling arms. He couldn’t find a single word. He knew everything had changed, but for now, the past and the future had disappeared, and having Cas here with him was all that mattered.

“Don’t leave,” Sam whispered, eventually.

Cas cradled him close, squeezing him tightly. “I won’t,” he said.

Sam wanted to apologize for being rough, and accusing Cas of casting a spell, but he couldn’t find the words. He couldn’t say much of anything at all, but he felt like Cas understood. They exchanged sweet, loving caresses and kisses, relieved of the burden of urgency, simply taking pleasure in each other’s presence. Sam realized that he was in love, but still couldn’t bring the words to his lips.

“Sam,” Cas murmured after a while. “Do you… still believe in God?”

Sam tilted his head contemplatively. “Yeah. I do. I… don’t think he’s got much use for me, though.” He held Cas a little tighter.

“On the contrary, I think it likely that he is showing a vested interest in you, Sam.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well. I am speaking of… the desire between us that neither of us can explain. We both felt that there was no explanation for it. Neither of us deliberately enspelled the other. I do not believe there was a spell at all. But perhaps it is a force beyond us.”

“You mean… God made me want you?” Sam laughed softly, but didn’t deny it.

Cas took a strand of Sam’s hair between his fingers, stroking it thoughtfully. “I desire you intensely, too. And your desire inflames mine. Possibly…”

“What?” Sam asked.

“Possibly you are being given a reason… to continue. Something worth fighting for, if saving the world,, or love for your brother, were not enough.”

Sam arched his eyebrows, but Cas only looked at him, clear-eyed, and Sam could not bring himself to tease him about it. “Well,” he said instead, “you are that.”

Cas did flush a bit then. It was odd to see him looking so human. “Perhaps that came across as arrogant. I simply meant the desire—”

Sam interrupted him with a heated kiss, and Cas melted into it instantly. “You’re the reason. I thought of that, too, Cas. That… it might be able to bring me back to Dean, to face what’s happening, when nothing else could. I was mad about it at first, but… I guess I never really believed I could get away.” He smiled at Cas. “And if I get you out of the deal… well, it’s a lot better than anything else I’ve ever gotten.”

“You will return to Dean, then?”

“I think I have to. If he’ll have me. We have to… keep fighting.”

“I will help you, Sam. As best I can.”

Sam embraced him tightly. “I just wonder how I’m going to tell Dean about this.”

“About our… encounter?”

“That, and… that I’m in love with an angel, and want to keep him forever.” Saying it this way, distancing it slightly, made it more bearable, but Sam still hid his face against Cas’s shoulder when Cas went still at the words.

Cas lifted Sam’s face to gaze into his eyes. “I love you, too, Sam,” he said. “And… I don’t know about forever. It is impossible to say where our paths will take us, if we survive this war. But… I will always return to you if I can, and keep you at my side as much as I may… if that is enough for you.”

“It’s more than I have any right to hope for. I love you, Cas,” Sam said with feeling, and clutched him tightly.

“As for Dean,” Cas continued, “we can tell him together.” He smiled, unexpectedly brightly. “I am quite looking forward to the look on his face.”

Sam laughed, his heart lifting unexpectedly. “Me, too,” he agreed. “But for now, I believe I might have some more tutoring to give you.” He slid his body against Cas’s and caressed him suggestively.

“I am an excellent student,” Cas said, smiling and kissing him, “and eager to learn.”

~The End~


End file.
